


Of Fluff and Feathers

by LunarHermit



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Banter, F/F, F/M, Female Mage Lavellan Inquisitor, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Headcanon, M/M, Very sporadic updates, possible side pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-22
Updated: 2016-05-23
Packaged: 2018-06-10 03:13:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6937315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunarHermit/pseuds/LunarHermit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ellana Lavellan was prepared to one day lead her clan, not an organisation swiftly rising to become a prominent beacon of hope in Thedas. Thrust into a confusing world of politics, war, and rampant demons, it is the relationships she makes that will help her survive and put a stop to the madness tearing apart the world.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, Ellana has found herself surrounded by a slew of interesting companions from all walks of life, and navigating those particular relationships might just be more trouble than facing Corypheus and his demon army combined.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Musings and Advice

**Author's Note:**

> So. Lavellan/Leliana. Because I always wondered. (Also because every time I play, I get the itch to replay Origins just to get Leliana fluff.) Will be more a series of character building, interactions, banter, humor, and fluff, than a full-length retelling. Expect sporadic updates of varying chapter lengths, though I will try not to dip below 2000 words. Also, not beta’d and quickly edited, so probably full of grammatical errors that my brain is adamant on ignoring.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Dragon Age or anything associated with it, nor am I making a profit with this story.

**0-o-0-o-0**

Ellana Levallan stilled as her slender yet pointed ears twitched at the faint shuffle of footsteps on carpet, the sound of hushed voices lowered in reverence warning her that someone drew near. Hunching almost imperceptibly, the elf clenched her hand to hide her glowing palm and all but willed the approaching refugees to pass her by without spotting her form amidst the shadows. It took a few minutes for the interlopers’ slow meandering to even make it within view of Ellana’s hiding spot, yet thankfully the shadows did their job and the elf remained undiscovered.

Relaxing slightly with an inaudible sigh as the couple exited the Chantry, Ellana’s vibrant yellow-green eyes fluttered open and settled once more on the similarly hued mark magically etched on her palm. Tracing it lightly with a finger, she winced slightly, a disturbed look flitting across her face. It did not hurt, per se, unless close to a rift – for then the mark burned with a sharp pain not unlike being hit with a particularly powerful lightning spell. But it did feel distinctly uncomfortable as her fingertip ghosted over it, an echo of wrongness and more than a little remembered pain causing her to withdraw her probing digit with a frown.

Sighing once more, this time more drawn out and weary than relieved, Ellana leaned back on her repurposed crate and rested the back of her head against the cool stone, the long pale hair piled atop her head in a hastily constructed bun protecting her from the worst of the chill. Alone with her thoughts once more, Ellana ruminated on the drastic turn her once simple life had taken.

How had things turned so… so complicated? And so fast?

A fortnight ago she had left her clan accompanied by two hunters, tasked with learning what the result of Divine Justinia’s conclave would be, and what it would mean for her people. The trip had been swift and uneventful, and the three of them had expected the return trip to be just as easy.

A week ago she had awoken in chains, her head pounding and her body aching as if she had recently been put through her clan’s hunter trials, and her two companions nowhere to be seen. Then a sharp pain in the palm of one of her hands would have brought her to her knees had she not already been resting on them, and a bright green glow crackled across her skin – one that had most assuredly not been there the last time she’d looked. And then, to further compound her confusion, not only had she been brusquely accused and interrogated, but she had learnt that everyone that had been at the conclave was dead – everyone excluding her. It did not come as much as a surprise, then, when she also learned that most had taken to laying the blame at her feet.

To further complicate matters, however, her memory of the event was hazy to the point of being non-existent. She remembered reaching the temple, splitting up with her comrades, a glimpse of a warm smile… and then flashes. Nightmare creatures, the urgent need to escape, a figure… It was all jumbled and made little sense, and though Ellana knew she wouldn’t have done something as horrid as blow up the conclave, it still disturbed her that she could not prove without a shadow of a doubt – if only to herself – her own innocence.

It was a mixture of her own nature shining through, and wanting to prove herself to her captors, then, that lead to her willingly volunteering to help close the breach in the sky at the very real risk of her own life.

That morning she awoke, again with a pounding head and aching body – an unpleasant sensation she suspected yet fervently hoped would not become commonplace – only to be told that days had passed whilst she slumbered and that their efforts had proven a partial success. The breach was still marring the sky, yet it was no longer growing or spawning smaller yet no less dangerous rifts. Events had quickly escalated after that, culminating in her supposed position as the herald of the Maker’s holy wife – a god and position, she was quick to protest, she did not believe in – and part of a newly declared inquisition.

It was all too much for Ellana, who still viewed herself as no more than her clan’s First, to deal with, and so she had excused herself to get some air. Word traveled fast, however, and though her reception was mostly much more favorable than when she last awoke, the air of awe and reverence directed her way made the elf distinctly uncomfortable. Compound that with the whispers her sensitive hearing couldn’t help but pick up, and Ellana had retreated back within the constricting stone walls of the Chantry to hide, despite the mild claustrophobia many Dalish tended to experience when within such manmade buildings.

“Andaran atish’an.”

The sudden voice at her side, soft and lilting though it was, startled Ellana to the point of physically jumping. Long-practiced manners kicked in, causing Ellana to blurt out her response even before she fully turned to face her sudden company. “Andaran atish’an.”

Blinking in the dim light, Ellana cocked her head and studied the cloaked figure of the Inquisition’s Spymaster. Somewhat belatedly, it registered in the elf’s mind that Leliana was the second human that day to greet her in the language of her People, even going so far as to use the more formal greeting to parallel their status as mere acquaintances. Overwhelming curiosity, a trait she was both praised and scolded for in equal measure, caused her to break the brief silence. 

“I must say, it’s unusual to receive such a greeting when speaking to a human in a human community?” Ellana trailed off, her inflection turning her statement into an open-ended question.

“Oh?” Instead of answering, Leliana instead posed her own question, a shapely eyebrow raising slightly. “And do you often find yourself amongst humans in human communities?”

“I suppose?” Ellana blinked and chewed at her lip for a moment as she turned the inquiry around in her mind. Feeling as if the other woman was dissatisfied with her short answer, Ellana felt no reason not to elaborate and continued honestly. “My clan interacts with humans more frequently than most Dalish do. We even have a rather amicable trading relationship with a few small communities near the forest we call home for most of the year. As Keeper Deshanna’s First, I was more often than not part of the trading parties, for both diplomatic and learning purposes.”

“I see,” Leliana hummed as she critically studied the newly named Herald of Andraste from beneath her cowl. The elven woman was slight of build, her complexion fair and features soft. Approximately half a head shorter than Leliana herself when standing, the seated elf gazed up at the rogue with visible curiosity and confusion shining in her vibrant orbs. While Leliana was more than used to seeing those emotions in her line of work, she could tell that the Herald’s weren’t tinted with the same fear and greed she was used to associating them with, but instead shone with an innocent honesty bordering on the naïve.

Leliana dealt in knowledge; knowledge was power, and the difference between success and an oft times painful death. It disturbed her, then, that she had so little information on a person so pivotal to the newly declared Inquisition. She refused to allow the world to fall completely into chaos, to trample over the vision of a peaceful world her dear friend gave her life for, and so it was her job to gather the knowledge on how to insure Justinia’s sacrifice wasn’t in vain. Blackmail, bribery, rewards and threats – all tools Leliana wouldn’t hesitate to use, yet without the knowledge to wield them effectively…

At least her preliminary study of the elf had soothed the darker thoughts running through her mind. The younger woman thus far seemed to be astonishingly genuine, wearing her emotions on her sleeve with nary a hint of shady or darker intent behind her words or actions. It was both refreshing to Leliana, and an automatic cause for suspicion. She made a mental note to contact her scouts and informants near the forest Clan Levallan was currently encamped, and have them visit the nearby settlements to validate the elf’s story.

“So how do you know of our customs?” Ellana broke the silence hesitantly, aware that she’d not received a proper answer to her earlier question, though not wanting the other woman to feel like she was prying. “I understand why it might behoove Ambassador Montilyet to learn a Dalish greeting, however…?”

“It is obvious, no?” Leliana replied, a slight smirk dancing at the corner of her lips. “Knowledge, and acquiring knowledge, is my job.”

Another non-answer. Ellana’s curiosity grew, however the Spymaster didn’t give her time to form another question, instead abruptly changing the subject.

“What troubles you?” Leliana eyed the younger woman’s startled gaze at her abrupt question with a hint of amusement. “As a key member of the Inquisition, lives depend on you being focused, not distracted as you are currently.”

“I-,” Ellana exhaled before lowering her gaze to her fidgeting fingers, her subsequent mumble carrying a hint of resigned self-deprecation. “Is it that obvious?”

“Perhaps,” Leliana nodded slowly, keen eyes observing the elf’s body language even as her ears and mind worked to uncover hidden truths. “Though I am more perceptive than most.”

“I just…” Ellana frowned and trailed off. Too many doubts and worries floated through her mind. The sorrow of lives lost and lives yet to be lost weighed most heavily upon her, especially with so many falsely looking to her as their salvation. She knew her own inadequacy in that regard; she was no saviour, no Herald, and yet she had agreed to play the part. She was lying, giving false hope, and she feared the day she slipped and was seen for what she truly was. She feared the repercussions it might have for her clan, her family, and the People as a whole.

Mostly, however, she feared failure, and what it would mean for the world. 

“Am I doing the right thing?” Ellana asked haltingly. “I’m no Herald of Andraste, no savior. I’m lying, pretending to be something I’m not, and it’s… it simply feels wrong.”

“You are the Herald of Andraste.” Leliana replied simply. Seeing the elf begin to protest, Leliana swiftly cut her off. “To them. The people left confused, left wounded and desolated by the events tearing our world asunder. Whether you are in fact a blessing from Andraste or not is inconsequential, because you are their hope for a resolution to this chaos.”

Ellana opened and closed her mouth, mind tumultuous as she pondered the other’s words. It made sense, in a way, though the lie still weighed heavily upon her. She felt like she was taking advantage of their vulnerability. “But it’s all a lie.”

“Not to them, and that is all that matters. Belief of even the possibility of a resolution to this conflict is a powerful tool, and one we must cultivate carefully to avoid mass hysteria.” Leliana’s words were somewhat cold and, she could see, altogether too clinical to soothe the sentimental elf’s conscience. With an internal sigh, Leliana tried a different tactic. “You’ve not once told them you were Andraste’s Herald, have you? Therefore, you have not lied.”

“It’s a lie of omission,” Lavellan retorted strongly with a disgruntled frown, though interestingly enough to Leliana, she did not raise her voice in ire despite her strong conviction.

Another insight into the elf’s morals and personality filed itself in the back of Leliana’s mind, though it was one she’d have to test out at a later date. Of course Lavellan was correct, it was a lie of omission. It was, however, a necessary lie, and one the Herald would do well to come to terms with sooner rather than later. 

“Perhaps,” Leliana nodded slightly in agreement. “Though it _is_ necessary, and not only because it is advantageous for the Inquisition’s goals.”

Ellana pursed her lips and studied the cloaked figure next to her. She wanted to believe that, and on some level she knew it to be true. However, the very thought conflicted with the morals she was raised to honor and continued to leave a sour taste in her mouth and a heaviness in her chest. “Why.”

“Would you begrudge them their hope?” Leliana paused for a moment, deciding to shift gears yet again, this time playing on the elf’s conscience. It was a form of manipulation, yes, but Leliana well versed in such wordplay and made a conscious effort not to push the Herald too far, especially with her data on the elf far from complete. “After all that has happened, after all that they have lost, with naught but a bleak future ahead, would you begrudge them the comfort of belief?”

Lavellan’s expression wavered, and Leliana relentlessly pounced upon the weakness like she was trained to do so long ago, the action all but second nature to her. “Would you scorn a man for drawing hope from an heirloom sword to protect his family? From a child believing their dog will protect them from the horrors they can’t comprehend? What manner of fount they draw strength from does not matter, as long as they have the will to continue and the hope that someday their lives shall once again know a semblance of peace.”

Seeing the reluctant acceptance, and knowing she had already succeeded, Leliana gentled her voice somewhat. “The Dalish have their own gods, no? To look to for advice and protection? To believe in? To take comfort in? Allow them, then, their own comfort, wherever they may draw it from; whether it be the Maker, his bride Andraste, or the elf that alone was able to stop the breach from expanding and engulfing the world.”

“Okay,” Ellana sighed, eyes lowered and head bowed. She still felt uncomfortable playing the role, but she heard what the Spymaster was saying. She understood the importance of the role she was thrust in, though she still wasn’t going to accept that she was a genuine holy figure like many made her out to be. Oddly enough, she felt the same sense of defeat and acceptance as she would after one of Deshanna’s lectures. “Okay. I understand.”

“Good,” Leliana studied the elf’s youthful face before nodding imperceptibly, satisfied with the turn of events. Though still troubled, Lavellan seemed slightly more relaxed. It would take much more time for her – for everyone, really – to really come to terms with recent events, however there was nothing she could do about that. The rest was up to their new Herald to work through on her own. “You should take some time to explore Haven, if you haven’t already, and then get some rest. Cassandra plans to set out for the Hinterlands in the morning.”

With those parting words, Leliana took her leave, not once looking back. She had done what she could, and learned a great deal about their mysterious Herald, however only time would tell how things would play out. Time – and more detailed information.

Ellana watched as the Spymaster silently slipped out of the Chantry. Left to her own thoughts once more, Ellana glanced at the mark on her palm for a long moment before curling her hand. Grabbing her borrowed staff with the other hand, she used it to hoist herself onto her feet. Clasping the staff onto the back of her coat once more, she stuffed her marked hand in one of the many pockets hidden on her coat. Straightening, Ellana left the comforting darkness and met the crisp coolness of Haven’s wintery weather head-on.

Though her ears still twitched and burned from the many whispers, Ellana took comfort in the fact that, if even by a small margin, she wasn’t as bothered by them as before.

**0-o-0-o-0**


	2. Decisions and Nostalgia

**O-0-o-0-O**

Ellana muffled a yawn as she followed Cassandra into the war room, noting through heavy eyes that the other advisors were already assembled and waiting on them. As if the sound of the heavy doors clicking shut were all the invitation they needed, talk began almost immediately. Ellana tried to keep up, however she feared her exhaustion was slowing her thought processes down somewhat, making it more than moderately difficult to keep up with the multiple topics flying around. 

Giving up the entire effort as futile after only a few minutes of struggle, Ellana resigned herself to simply looking like she was attentively listening, all the while essentially dozing on her feet. She made sure, however, to keep an ear out in case she was addressed directly.

“Any trouble escorting Mother Giselle to Haven?” Cullen inquired straight away, his gaze awkwardly drifting from the Herald and coming to rest upon Cassandra after receiving no response.

“Not as such, no,” Cassandra replied simply. “We found ourselves in the middle of a few skirmishes between mages and Templars, however it was nothing we couldn’t handle. The increased frequency of those skirmishes and the repercussions are, however, a growing cause for concern.”

“Oh?” Leliana’s brow rose in intrigue. Cassandra was doing a marvelous job of trying to hide it, however Leliana had come to know the Seeker well enough in the past few years to not be deceived by the warrior's mask. Even if she doubted the validity of her suspicions, the fact that the Herald was practically asleep on her feet - and shamelessly at that - was a dead giveaway. The returning party, it seemed, was far more exhausted than should be normal for such a simple fetch quest.

Cassandra followed Leliana’s pointed gaze to the Herald and sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly. Shaking her head, she answered the Spymaster’s silent question. “The refugees at the Crossroads were in need of aid, and the Herald was quick to promise hers – and by association, ours.”

“What sort of aid?” Leliana narrowed her eyes. Promises were dangerous at the best of times. When you were the public face of a fledgling organisation such as the Inquisition, however, promises could be both deadly and damning.

“Nothing like that,” Cassandra assured Leliana, knowing exactly what dark places the other’s mind had gone. “Simple things; meat for the hunter to distribute, pelts to be cured and used for clothes and blankets, collecting herbs to aid the wounded. There was also a small bandit troupe harassing the refugees that we cleared out, and the Herald managed to locate and convince a healer to lend their services to those at the Crossroads.”

“That’s wonderful,” Josephine smiled, pleased. “Not only will that help the refugees, but it will also help to cement ours as a cause worth supporting.”

“Yes, I’ll send a raven to Corporal Vale and see if he needs more men,” Cullen mused. “If these skirmishes are escalating as you say, it is something to look into. After declaring the Crossroads under Inquisition protection, we’ve an obligation to the refugees’ continued safety.”

Leliana hummed lightly, registering everything that was said, yet her gaze never strayed from the lightly dozing Herald. The small party had only spent two days and one night in the Hinterlands, making haste to locate and escort Mother Giselle back to Haven. With this new information, it was no surprise that the group was so weary; having spent much of their time either fighting or aiding the refugees left little time for rest. 

Leliana was of two minds concerning the Herald’s actions. On the one hand, as Josie stated, it was actions such as those that would give the Inquisition a good name. Furthermore, it went a long way to cementing the preliminary conclusions she had reached concerning their mysterious Herald.

That wasn’t necessarily a good thing, however. While on the surface, a kind and determined soul such as Lavellan’s seemed a boon to the budding organisation. Realistically, however, Leliana wondered how the elf would react when faced with the truly hard choices she would inevitably be confronted with in the near future.

Wondering about it wouldn't reap any answers in the present, however, and so Leliana absentmindedly moved the train of thought to the back of her mind. She supposed only time would tell for certain, though in the meantime she’d continue to keep a close eye on their Herald.

“Any developments in our absence worth mentioning?” Cassandra inquired when a momentary lull fell upon the room.

The advisors shared a glance, Cullen opting to go first. “I have new recruits trickling in daily; not nearly enough for an army, however our numbers _are_ growing.”

“They’re not _your_ recruits,” Leliana cut in with a raised brow, fixing Cullen with an unamused look. “They’re _ours_.”

Aware of the rising tension between the Spymaster and Commander, Josephine jumped in as Cullen cleared his throat. “While there are no visiting dignitaries of note at the moment, we did receive word from our inquiries into the Grey Warden sightings along the Storm Coast. Leliana?”

Leliana gave Cullen one last look before allowing her friend to draw her into the new topic. “As you know, Scout Harding’s orders were to establish a forward camp on the Storm Coast after reporting to you in the Hinterlands. We received a few reports by raven since, though only one after she successfully made camp.” Leliana frowned. “My other scouts in the area have yet to make further contact with her, however, and she is overdue for a report.”

“So it is likely that she ran into trouble along the coast,” Cassandra stated plainly as she frowned. “What of the rumors? Do we know if there are Wardens in the area?”

“No,” Leliana reluctantly admitted, frown deepening. Though the thought of losing a good scout was less than ideal, the sour taste in her mouth was mostly due to such a glaring blind spot existing in her network. If there was trouble on the Storm Coast, Grey Wardens or no, she wanted to know everything from their numbers to what they had for dinner.

“That’s our next stop, then? Trying to make contact with Scout Harding on the Storm Coast?”

The audibly sluggish voice surprised the other occupants of the room, most having written the Herald off as preoccupied at best and passed out on her feet at worst.

Ellana paused and raised a hand to cover her yawn. “Ara seranna-ma,” she mumbled. Blinking slowly as her eyes wandered from one amused advisor to the next, her green orbs lingered momentarily on the light curl of their Spymaster’s lips before almost reluctantly settling on Cassandra. The warrior also wore a lightly amused look, and for a moment Ellana’s mind wandered, loftily debating whether or not that was an okay turn of events.

While she wanted her companions to warm up to her – seeing as the prospect of returning home post-haste was naught but a far-off dream at that point – did she really want them to find her amusing when she wasn’t trying to be? It felt a little like being indulged, as one would an amusing yet oft times troubling younger sibling. And while she was most likely the youngest in their inner circle, she was also supposedly occupying a leader-type position.

Mythal, but she was tired. Her thoughts were making little sense, and had nothing to do with the current conversation. Stamping down another yawn, Ellana supposed that being the recipient of amused looks was far better than being shackled and held at sword-point, and so, matter laid to rest, she blinked and returned to the conversation at hand.

“-more men, and track down Master Dennet.” Cullen pointed out, in favor of having the Herald return to the Hinterlands and securing some quality mounts for the Inquisition.

“While that is true, we still have to make preparations should he accept our offer; we are not currently equipped to house more than a dozen or so horses,” Josephine interjected sensibly. “Also, we are already running out of room for our forces such as they are. Perhaps we should enlarge the encampment before throwing ourselves further into a recruitment campaign?”

“Yes, and in the meantime, the Herald can travel to the Storm Coast and attempt to make contact with Scout Harding,” Leliana jumped in matter-of-factly, her tone unwavering. The lack of information coming out of that place was putting her in a foul mood. “While there, either with or without Scout Harding’s information, the Herald should then determine whether the rumors of Grey Warden sightings hold any substance.”

Having missed part of the conversation due to her wandering mind, Ellana nevertheless shrugged when three sets of eyes turned towards her. “I believe I’ve already stated my opinion.” Turning to Cassandra, she silently gave the Seeker the final word.

Cassandra sighed, and though laced with a certain amount of weariness, her tone was nevertheless decisive. “We’ll rest tonight and resupply tomorrow, then leave for the Storm Coast.”

It seemed that was the signal for the meeting to adjourn, and Ellana thankfully shuffled from the confining room. Making it halfway down the main hall, the elf stumbled on a fold in the thick carpet and began to sway. Yawning once more, Ellana spied an unoccupied bench nearby and all but fell onto it, telling herself she’d just rest her weary body for a moment.

Just a moment.

Just…

...

**-O-o-O-**

Leliana silently observed as the Herald exited the room, the elf’s relief at the meeting’s adjournment plainly visible across her expressive face. Turning her attention away once the doors shut behind Cassandra and Cullen, Leliana glanced at her quickly scribbling friend.

“Our Herald of Andraste looked particularly exhausted, didn’t she?” Josephine commented with a smile, though her eyes never left the scroll before her. “I know it’s rude of me to say, however she looked rather adorable while trying to hide her yawning.”

“Hm,” Leliana hummed noncommittally, though Josephine correctly took it as a sign of agreement. Slowly, a devious smile teased the edges of the former bard’s lips. “Why Josie, is that attraction I hear in your voice? Should I perhaps corner our Herald and question her intentions?”

“Oh you,” Josephine scoffed and finally looked up at her friend, though she was unable to completely beat back a light blush at the redhead’s expression. Though she had successfully navigated The Game, Leliana always seemed to know just what buttons to push to make her flustered. It was, Josephine knew, a testament to Leliana’s own prowess at navigating The Game, and her success as a former bard.

The redhead was very good at what she did, a fact she was more than aware of.

Keeping the playful lilt to her voice, Josephine pointed out innocently, “Even you must admit that Mistress Lavellan is rather easy on the eyes.”

“Hmm.” Leliana’s hum was slightly more drawn out, and Josephine allowed herself a brief yet no less satisfied smirk at the acknowledgment. 

Gathering the rest of her papers, Josephine capped her inkwell and secured her quill. “Well, I believe I have everything I need.”

Pushing herself away from the war table with her hip, Leliana straightened and fell into step with her friend. “You should get some rest, Josie. The final copies can keep until morning.”

“I could say the same of you,” Josephine’s brows rose as she glanced at her friend pointedly. Receiving the wry look she expected from such a remark, the scribe sighed and shook her head with a small smile. “I think I shall heed your advice; though Leliana, please get at least a few hours sleep before dawn.”

“Hm. We shall see.” Leliana smiled and opened the door, allowing Josephine to exit first. “Sweet dreams, Josie.”

Leliana watched as Josephine murmured the same well wishes before breaking off and heading to her chambers. Alone once more, Leliana strode down the hallway, intent on continuing to slave over her reports for another candlemark or two. Her purposeful gait faltered, however, when a she spied a figure slumped in a shady alcove from her peripherals.

Immediately changing directions and sporting a small frown, Leliana paused in surprise when the figure became clear to her searching gaze. Slowly, however, her surprise melted into exasperation tinged with a hint of wry amusement. 

Reaching down, Leliana lightly shook the woman’s shoulder.

“Herald?” Receiving no response, Leliana sighed and tried again, this time speaking louder and shaking her more insistently. “Lavellan.”

Again, the redhead was met with nary a twitch. It seemed the excursion to the Hinterlands were more exhausting than Cassandra had let on, and Leliana made a mental note to get a full report of the events in the morning.

Pursing her lips, Leliana glanced around the large hall. The hour was late and the Chantry empty, however she couldn’t in good conscience leave the foolish elf where she was. Not only was that inviting someone to take a shot at the vulnerable woman, but she wouldn’t get anywhere near a good night’s rest and thus her performance would suffer.

Telling herself she would attempt to wake the sleeping Herald again, this time not nearly as nicely, Leliana was thusly surprised when instead of prodding the sleeping woman awake, her arms slipped underneath Lavellan’s bent legs and behind her back. Straightening, Leliana scowled and silently reprimanded herself. Her scowl only deepened as Lavellan’s head lolled to the side and settled upon her shoulder, the elf’s warm breath breaking against her neck through the opening of her cowl.

Despite her personal misgivings, however, Leliana made sure the Herald was secure in her arms – which wasn’t a very difficult task, the elf being rather light – and turned towards her quarters. She was not going to walk to the other end of Haven with an unconscious Herald in her arms, and even then, assigning her to a cabin so far on the outskirts was a glaring oversight on their part. Though the Herald was an important figure, and thus was technically entitled to the privacy and space inherent in a personal cabin, it wasn’t the most secure place for the Herald to be when at her most vulnerable. Despite her reception taking a turn for the better since the halting of the breach and the declaration of the Inquisition, whispers of malcontent still reached Leliana’s ears.

Decided, and making another mental note to assign the Herald new quarters in the morning, Leliana redistributed the weight in her arms and deftly unlocked the door to her room with one hand. Walking into the dark room and nudging the door closed behind her, she deposited the Herald onto her bed and walked confidently without sight to where she knew a candle and box of matches were kept. Striking the match and holding it up to the wick, Leliana took a moment to blink and adjust to the change in lighting before moving.

Walking over to the bed, Leliana began automatically removing the elf’s footwear. It was only as the second boot hit the floor with a muffled thud that the redhead became aware of just what she was doing, and who she was disrobing. Frowning at herself, a quick glance at the sleeping elf turned into a long yet increasingly absent stare, a bittersweet expression overtaking and softening her features.

Thoughts she usually kept well under lock and key were dangerously close to the surface that night; thoughts of another elf, this one with a headstrong personality and stubborn streak a mile wide. Her cold demeanor and biting words hid a kind and gentle heart, however, and Leliana remembered many a precious stolen moment on their journey as the proud kingdom of Ferelden fell to pieces around them. Sweet nothings, whispered promises, kisses under the moonlight, and a low and slightly rough voice a welcome constant throughout it all…

A light murmur from the sleeping elf before her knocked Leliana swiftly from her memories. With an embarrassingly shaky inhale, Leliana took a moment to once again clear her mind of nostalgic thoughts of a time long passed. Once she felt more or less back in control, the former bard glanced at the elf resting in her bed for a forcefully short moment before groaning.

Leaving the Herald in her traveling clothes was perhaps unkind, however Leliana couldn’t bring herself to care at that moment. Lifting the heavy blanket, she settled it around the slumbering form before retreating to her desk in the corner, intent on working until the candle was spent and the flame flickered and died.

And when that happened, she mused with another quick glance at her bed and the figure slumbering peacefully within it, she’d simply light another.

**O-0-o-0-O**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _**A/N:** Apologies; my writing is rusty. Fluff and humor will come – be patient. Right now I’m just getting used to the characters and setting, and setting things up. The actual romance most likely won’t start until after they reach Skyhold, and I have a few chapters planned before that happens._
> 
> _I forgot to mention this after chapter one, but I will be sprinkling a few elvish words and phrases throughout the story, courtesy of the Dragon Age Wiki’s Elven Language page. I will also leave a quick and rough translation at the end of the chapter, so you don’t have to flip between windows._  
> 
> _**Andaran atish’an** – (Seen last chapter). A formal elven greeting that literally means ‘I dwell in this place, a place of peace.’_
> 
> _**Ara seranna-ma** – A polite ‘excuse me’ used after a sneeze, yawn, belch, etc…_


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